


Peanut, Peanut Butter

by ereshai



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: ClintCoulson Remix Challenge 2020, Excessive use of the phrase peanut butter, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Remix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:21:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26457850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ereshai/pseuds/ereshai
Summary: Phil just wants a pb&j made with the good peanut butter.
Relationships: Clint Barton/Phil Coulson
Comments: 22
Kudos: 64
Collections: 2020 ClintCoulson Remix: Quarantine Edition





	Peanut, Peanut Butter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [florahart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/florahart/gifts).
  * Inspired by [The Good Peanut Butter](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16374383) by [florahart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/florahart/pseuds/florahart). 



> This remix feels very inadequate, but it is also the most I've written in a very long time. Hooray for small victories.

There was an elephant in the room and it’s name was peanut butter.

Super chunky peanut butter, to be exact.

Phil ate his super chunky peanut butter and jelly sandwich in silence. He was _not_ sulking; he was... confused. Flabbergasted. Who in their right mind used chunky peanut butter on their pb&j? Might as well throw some preserves on it instead and get the full chunk-chewing experience. Ew.

On the couch next to him, Clint was eating a plain chunky peanut butter sandwich. Phil swore he could hear the crunch of peanut bits between his teeth. Was Clint mocking him? Phil took another tentative bite of his sandwich.

“What?” Clint mumbled through a mouthful of peanut butter and bread.

Phil was having a bad day. He knew he was having a bad day, and he knew it wasn’t Clint’s fault. It wasn’t even the chunky peanut butter’s fault (maybe it was slightly the chunky peanut butter’s fault). He ignored the fact that he had a jar of non-chunky peanut butter at home. He wasn’t at home, was he?

“You’re out of smooth peanut butter?” he asked in a perfectly mild tone of voice. 

“Uh, I don’t think so?”

“Oh. Why didn’t you use that instead?” Phil frowned down at his sandwich. He didn’t like to throw away food, but if there was superior peanut butter within reach…

“Why would I use that for sandwiches?” Clint was genuinely perplexed, as far as Phil could tell. “The texture’s all wrong.”

Phil inhaled slowly through his nose. “The lack of texture is the point.”

Clint put his sandwich down on the coffee table and stared at him. “You okay, Phil?”

No. “Yeah,” he sighed. “Yes, I’m fine.” He took another bite of his sandwich and chewed grimly. He didn’t want _shards_ of _peanut_ shredding the roof of his mouth.

“Did you get dumped or something?”

He shook his head. He wasn’t dating anyone at the moment, mostly because he was still dealing with the fact that he very much wanted to be dating the person sitting next to him. Phil knew Clint liked him, might even be attracted to him, but would he want to take their relationship further? Phil didn’t want to risk it. Where else could he show up without notice when he was having a bad day? “My head hurts,” he said. “Stark was pointlessly needling Reed Richards today, and _that_ was like needles in my brain. And your peanut butter is super chunky.”

“Huh,” Clint said thoughtfully. “Are you saying that sometimes there's a point to Stark needling Richards?”

Phil almost-laughed. “He sometimes does it pointedly.”

Clint grinned and patted him on the shoulder. “Be right back.”

Phil dropped his sandwich on the table and flopped back as gently as possible against the couch, his eyes closed. If his head didn’t stop hurting he wouldn’t be able to watch Dog Cops with Clint. He wasn’t sure how much time passed before he heard Clint return.

“Here.”

Phil opened his eyes to see a pill bottle hovering in front of his face. He grabbed it and squinted at the label. “Oh, the good stuff from Medical.”

“And something to wash it down.” Clint set a glass of water on the table next to his partially eaten sandwich.

Clint disappeared again as Phil opened the bottle and shook out one pill. One would be enough to kill the pain, hopefully without knocking him out for several hours - the good stuff from Medical was meant to help with the pain of healing bones or gunshot wounds or bruised organs. Phil’s brain was throbbing like a bruise, so he thought that qualified. He took the pill, drank almost half of the glass of water, and settled back against the couch again.

“I hope you’re still hungry,” Clint said a few minutes later. “You shouldn’t take those on an empty stomach.”

This time when Phil opened his eyes, there was a fresh peanut butter and jelly sandwich waiting for him.

“Smooth peanut butter,” Clint said at his questioning look.

Phil smiled. He was already feeling better. He accepted the sandwich and took a small bite. It was perfect - no chunks of peanut, the ratio of peanut butter to jelly was exactly the way he liked it, and the bread was soft enough that he didn’t really have to chew if he didn’t want to. He hummed happily and took a bigger bite.

“Wow, you really do have opinions about peanut butter, don’t you?” Clint said fondly.

Phil shrugged and proceeded to inhale the rest of his sandwich. It was exactly what he needed.

“Can I get you anything else? Coffee? Tea?”

 _Or me_ , Phil’s mind supplied. Was that even a thing people said anymore? “Do you _have_ any tea?” he asked instead.

“I could get some,” Clint said with a shrug.

“Another sandwich?” Phil implored, his eyes wide. He wasn’t as good at puppy dog eyes as Clint was, but it was worth a shot.

Clint burst out laughing. “All right, all right. Put those away before I take a picture to show all the junior agents and ruin your hard ass reputation.”

“They wouldn’t believe you, even with photographic proof.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Clint said on his way to the kitchen. He soon brought out another sandwich, which Phil ate almost as quickly as the first.

“So what should we watch?” Clint said as he picked up the remote. “Dog Cops, or something where you don’t have to follow the plot?”

Phil wasn’t sure exactly what prompted his actions in the moments that followed. Clint had his arm up, pointing the remote at the television. There was a smear of peanut butter on the side of his hand, and Phil just... leaned over and licked it off. He even scraped his teeth lightly over the spot; peanut butter was sticky, dammit. He ended with a little kiss. He sat back and met Clint’s wide-eyed stare.

He said the first thing that came into his head - he was pretty good at thinking on his feet. “You wouldn’t want to do _that_ with chunky peanut butter, now would you?” 

Maybe he shouldn’t be trying to think on his feet right now.

“No,” Clint said breathlessly, then he leaned forward and kissed Phil square on the mouth.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the kids' song Peanut Butter and Jelly


End file.
